


Sangre Dulce

by himitsutsubasa



Category: Battle Creek (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himitsutsubasa/pseuds/himitsutsubasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Milt and Russ decide to break in his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sangre Dulce

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Of Course, He Makes a Better Vampire Than I Do](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728116) by [IAmOnlyPartlyMajestic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmOnlyPartlyMajestic/pseuds/IAmOnlyPartlyMajestic). 



> I was trying to go for hot and kinky and lots of cursing, but this almost turned into something tender? I really wish I spent more time on this, but as of now, this is as good as it gets. I'll try to fix it up and make it as tender as I could make it.

Russ padded around the apartment. So empty. He’d expected Milt to have everything together already. A professional moving company that bent over backwards to make Milt happy for a glimpse of his smile. Maybe a pack of teenagers with crushes on the man. 

Anything but Russ and a handful of boxes, because apparently, the safe house had come furnished. 

Russ set another box down, surveying the room again. There was nothing really awesome about this place, no hidden rooms or anything like that, though Russ had yet to see a door to a bedroom, or any other room for another. Leave it to Milt to hide where he slept. See that? Actual vampire tactic. There was a reason why Russ had a full on house, but had his bedroom in the basement, next to the escape route, that led to a shed about a mile into the woods behind his house proper. Reason.

When one lived for over a hundred years easy, one tried their very best to not be killed by people they pissed off in the past. Being a cop, Russ had pissed off a lot of people in the past. Too many fucking people. Many of those people were dead, thank whatever deity took them off the earth and made sure they would not come back. 

Measured, quiet steps rang on the hard wood. 

“What are you paid?” Russ tried not to judge the molding work. It was good work, almost as good as the work Montaine did on his house back in the day. 

Milt shrugged, setting his box down gently. “About average for my position.”

Russ whistled. Okay, so maybe he should have signed up with the FBi back when Ed was running it. Russ’d gotten a summons, because the U.S. government had to know who he was and what he did. They had been surprisingly okay with that, considering they hunted down communists and ruined their lives. Pretty chill. Pretty chill. Not McCarthy. McCarthy was an asshole and Russ was glad he punched that asshole in the face during his one, and only, trip to D.C. Obviously, that was the reason for it being his one and only trip. 

“Russ.”

“Yeah?”

“This way?” Milt was gesturing to wall art. 

Russ stared at it for a moment before rolling his eyes. Wall art door. Right. Modern thing he didn’t care about.

The white panels folded back, skimming across the wall, revealing a dimmed room. 

Russ made out slats of light from the ceiling. Such a safety hazard. There was that one time with Crazy Kevin. Good times. Good times until Kevin decided to put a hatchet through Russ’ roof and murder three people. Yeah, Kevin. He was an adventure, even for the 60’s.

Russ nudged one of the boxes. “I’ll take the kitchen?”

Milt waved him over, gesturing to the box next to the kitchen things. “I’d rather not wrestle my mattress alone.”

Russ shrugged. Sure. Why not? Watching Milt Chamberlain fight a mattress would probably be the highlight of this decade. 

He picked up the box, following Milt into the warm reds and browns of the bedroom. So, maybe not a vampire. Russ personally favored creams and blues. They were more calming than reds, more suited to keeping his lust in check. Of course, his bedroom was not blue. That was one place reds were even a little okay.

Milt and Russ stripped out of their suit jackets, rolling up shirt sleeves.

“You’re on the left. I’ll take the right.”

It took about five minutes of grappling, but they got the mattress cover, pillow top, of course, because Milt was that kind of posh, on. The sheets, deep red, were next and Russ wanted to laugh about how Milt needed help making his bed, but the mattress was a monster. 

“What did you do? Ask a California King to swallow another king?”

“It was a gift.”

Russ’s brows went up and he punched a pillow into fluffiness. “A gift.”

Milt nodded. A small smile passed over his face. “My mother wanted me to get a good night’s rest.”

“Alright.” Russ smirked. “I think your mother was hoping for a bit much though.”

“What do you mean?” The most innocent face to ever screw a woman.

Russ waved his hand at the fully made bed, a work of luxury in rich red and gold thread. “Egyptian cotton sheets? A huge mattress? I counted two robes stuck in the same box as the sheets. That’s not your normal type of box by the way. They look similar, but the one your mom sent you is a bit shinier. Your mom thinks you have someone.”

Milt loosened his tie, head tilted slightly to the side, mouth parted, a small smile on his lips. 

“What do you think?”

Russ flopped on the bed, kicking his shoes across the room skitter off into the living room. “I think, you tried to tell her the truth, but she still believes there is someone in your life and you’ve given up trying to tell her otherwise.”

Milt grinned. “Why, Russ, that’s…”

“Or you had someone but she left you when you got demoted and now that you’re stuck in this tiny town, in this apartment, you’re sleeping in this huge mattress alone and trying to figure out how to tell your mom that the woman who would have been her daughter-in-law bailed on you the moment life got rough and you lied about it.”

The look of disappointment as Milt sprawled on the bed beside him was worth all the feeling of envy.

This was, probably, the nice bed Russ had ever laid on. The absolute best. It was soft, but still firm, perfect for a person who rolled in the night. It was also amazingly comforting to lie there, like he was laying on a cloud in heave, not that a soulless vampire would ever see it, but close as he would get. 

“This is a really nice bed.”

Milt sighed, his heart rate where his body was pressed against Russ’s, going slow. “Yeah.”

Russ breathed in and out, letting his body slow down and relax. The skylight was dimmed, allowing only a little hazy light in, casting everything in a soft glow. He was warm, comfortably so. More comfortable than he had been in a very long time. 

The sound of Milt’s heartbeat came louder and louder, the more he paused to think.

He promptly stopped thinking.

 

* * *

Warm breath tickled his ear. A strong, steady heartbeat thundered behind him, pressing into his back, shaking his whole body. 

Or he missed a dosage. He probably missed a dosage. 

Russ opened his eyes, blinking in the semi-darkness. Evening. Red. Warm. He twisted slightly, wincing as a belt buckle jabbed his pelvis. The body behind him smelled like heavy musk, sharp and a touch of tangy crispness that couldn’t be natural. No, cologne. It was spicy and clean cologne or aftershave. It smelled so good, but also very familiar and very expensive. That and the heavy arm slung around his waist, the long body spooning up behind him, the omega watch glinting at him malevolently. 

Milt.

Russ tried to shrug the arm off, but it gripped him tighter, pulling him in. Russ drew a sharp breath. So what? He was supposed to have a dosage around one. He’d skipped that one though, in favor of taking onearound four or five and shifting his schedule a little later to wean himself off the doctor’s blood packs. It was… according to his phone, when he managed to dig it out from where it had stabbed him in the leg, the traitor, about seven. 

No wonder Milt smelled good. More like now Russ could make out the individual notes of citrus and spice and cedar notes that gave Milt this refreshing edge. 

The sound of a beating heart filled his ears, louder, louder, deafening. 

“Milt.”

A mouth pressed against his neck, dragging lips across his skin.

“Milt.”

The lips pressed against the curve of his ear, chuckling warmly into it. 

“Mm?”

“It’s Russ.”

Milt smiled in his kiss to Russ’s ear. “Of course it is.” The mouth went on working, tugging at his skin, nibbling a his lobe. A hand rubbed against his chest. Sliding down the worn out fabric.

“Milt.”

The hand rested on his leg, rubbing small circles into the skin of his inner thigh. “What is it?”

“I do not consent to these proceedings.”

A small confused noise that Russ immediately regretted came from behind him. Then an affronted noise and a quick shift and something that didn’t feel all that bad brushing against his ass. Okay, it would have felt better if it wasn’t Mr. Honey for Blood over here.

“Russ?” Confusion, worry, possibly mild alarm.

Russ sat up, a little difficult give the state of things, but workable. Still workable. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

He didn’t turn around, instead getting out of bed, getting up and looking around for his shoes.

“Russ.”

Russ waved him off. Shoes. If he was going to be a strategic retreat, he should probably have his shoes. “Don’t worry, Milt. This is one thing I never want to talk about.”

“Russ.”

Russ glanced around again. No shoes. “What?”

“Turn around.”

A small slip of fabric and Milt’s collar fell open. 

Russ inhaled sharply.

The expanse of his neck was smooth, clean, perfectly made and the exact position in that moment reminded Russ of the statues he saw back in his school days, when the teacher showed them drawings, sketches she did back when she lived in the city, when she could visit the museum anytime she had the money to do so. It was sculpted by a great artist and Russ was pretty sure the skin would split perfectly under his teeth, like a diamond edged blade through warmed butter. It probably tasted so good and with the populations of vampires being rather limited and Milt’s privileged upbringing, he’d likely never come in contact with a vampire, exactly what a nip at his throat could do.

Milt cleared his throat. “Russ, I can’t let you go out hungry.”

“What? You’re going to offer yourself up on a platter?” Russ shook his head, ducking to peek under the bed. “I’m not interested.”

Milt plowed on. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about…”

“If you dare say the citizens of Battle Creek, I will drain you and sell the bags online,” Russ growled. “I’d never do that and you know it.”

He’d sooner die. A second time.

A hand caught his arm, turning him around to look Milt, warm, trusting, comfortable, in the eye. 

“I’m worried about you,” Milt finished. “You’ve gone long enough without a pack. You need fresh blood.”

“No. I don’t.”

Milt tugged on Russ’s sleeve. “It will be easier if you do. You’re still healing.”

“From a bullet wound you got me. I am going to be fine.” Probably. He had some in the cooler in his car. He would survive.

Milt kneeled on the bed, unbuttoning his shirt further. “Here.”

“What are you doing?”

Milt started tugging off his shirt, starting with the rest of the buttons. “Russ, I know about the aphrodisiac-like effects of the bite.”

“And now you know why I’m not going to drink from you.” Milt rubbing against him while Russ had his fangs in Milt’s throat? Good fantasy. bad reality. 

“I am fully conscious of the possible consequences and consenting.” Milt sighed, “Russ, you haven’t had the real thing in years. Just tonight.”

Russ chuckled, still searching for his goddamned shoes. “Why are you so desperate to get me into your bed?”

Milt wrapped his arms around Russ’s shoulders, pressing his mouth to Russ’s nape. “Have you taken a look at yourself?”

Russ shook his head, the heady scent of arousal blooming behind him, drawing him in. “No strings attached.”

“None.”

Russ turned and let himself get pulled back onto the bed, onto Milt, where he slotted between the other man’s legs. “Milt?”

The young man smirked, and the heat built, warm and sedentary in his throat. “What?”

“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.” Building. warming. hot.

“Who says,” Milt surged up to lick at his lips, forcing his mouth open, fighting him for he upper hand until Russ pulled away, breathless and too warm, “You’re going to be doing anything to anyone?”

Russ felt the air leave his lungs again as he was pressed into the mattress, Milt’s stronger, heavier body, holding him down. Pinned. Fucking pinned.

“I’d rather like to take you,” Milt purred into his ear, throat just a hair’s breadth away. “Opening you up, making you come.”

“But..” Almost uncomfortably hot now. Russ breathed slowly. Almost too much, too hot, too much need. 

Milt chuckled darkly, leaning back. Pupils dilated, hands holding Russ’s down. “You think I’m just interested in being a blood bank? You’re gorgeous.”

Russ breathed before letting his mouth fall open and his head fall back. It’d been years since his last good fuck. Years longer since he’s had someone in his ass and ohh.. that budge Milt was sporting in his trousers, the one making itself very well known against Russ’s thigh felt so good. Tonight. Just tonight. “Come on then. Sex first.”

A hand gripped his knee and his legs fell open. Fuck. The heat started building, boiling and Russ laid back, letting Milt figure out how to get Russ out of his shirt and pants. 

The cold air burned his skin more than the heat ever did. The internal burning wasn’t as bad as it had ever been, but in Milt’s presence it flared up, hotter and brighter than Russ remembered it ever being. He lay limp, melting into the sheets, floating on the sensation of rough fabric leaving his skin and the ghost of a kiss to the top of his cock.

A slight tug on his shoulder made him wince and Milt tutted at him. 

Lips pressed against his, tasting like honey that lip balm flavor that Milt liked. Sweet and warm, a tongue found its way into his mouth working him open, teasing and playing with him until he arched into Milt’s body, his underwear not providinghis rapidly hardening length enough forgiving friction.

Milt pressed a kiss to his nose, his eyes, his forehead, before ducking down below to lube up his hand. 

The first breach was cold and foreign, his body pushing out and burning in a different way from he blood lust. It stung a little at first, blooming into a tender sort of pain as one more finger scissored him open. The burn plateaued at Milt mouthed at his neck, praising him, promising him more and more if Russ wanted it. Promises to tie the vampire down and take him apart, until Milt found that soulless part of him and filled it with himself. 

The third finger made him yelp as Milt stretched him further, kissed him deeper, his fingers and tongue mounting a synchronized assault on his senses.

Russ whined, wiggling on the fingers, searching for a little more, just a little more. “Hurry up.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Russ sat up, wrapping his arms around Milt’s head, burying his face in Milt’s throat. “Fuck me.” 

“Gladly.”

Emptiness. Then the crinkle of a wrapper and the sound of plastic on skin. Russ breathed into the skin before his lips, his tongue darting out to taste salt. He mouthed there, distracting Milt for a moment, before licking a long stripe up the column, marking where he would bite.

And suddenly he felt a breach. The stretch surprised him, though he really should have known from the size of Milt though his underwear. He met Milt guiding the agent, sinking down at just the right angle to feel the body of Milt’s heavy, hot cock in his ass, rubbing against his prostate, rushing him towards the edge. The bottomed out, chest to chest, breathing in time, into each other’s skin. Milt started moving, almost lifting Russ with his grip on the older man’s hips. 

Russ struggled to breathe, the heat ripping through him once more.“Soon.”

The strokes quickened, rhythm never failing to be exactly perfect and Russ gasped into Milt’s ear.

“Russ, now.” His teeth sank into skin and warmth filled his mouth, flowing down his throat likehoney as Milt hit his prostate again and again, dragging the last drops of an orgasm out of his untouched cock.

Russ melted, licking away the last drops of blood from Milt’s neck, boneless in Milt’s arms as the other man pressed kisses to the side of Russ’s head, his cheek, his neck, his mouth, whispering more promises, happily-ever-afters.

Warmth spilled inside him and Milt shuddered, dropping them both back onto the mattress, Russ on top, sprawled over his own mess on Milt’s chest.

He drifted in the afterglow relishing in the cooling of his lust and the slight movements as Milt shifted out of him and fussed with the condom. Russ rolled off to the side, his face still buried in Milt’s neck.

“Good?” 

Russ hummed his pleasure into Milt’s skin.

They could finish unpacking later.

 

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck did I just write? This is my first time writing actual straight up porn. I have an obsession with breathing on people apparently. Also, a slightly darker Milt? I like dark Milt holding Russ down and taking him apart.


End file.
